Behind the Scenes(81)

I laugh out loud and quickly type back.

Does that mean Mulroney came back early?

She responds right away.

He came back today. Acting really weird.

I stare down at the text. Of course he was acting weird. What else is new? I resist the urge to ask her what she means by “weird.” I didn’t text Dana to start a conversation about Simon. On the contrary, I was genuinely interested to find out what’s been happening at the office.

She texts again. He’s not happy that you left.

I suck in a sharp breath.

Too bad.

I drop the phone down on the bedside table. A couple minutes go by and she doesn’t respond. Rolling over and nestling my hands underneath my chin, I clamp my lips tight and will the tears to stay behind my eyes.

I tell myself not to think about him. But of course, I can’t help it.

What is he doing right now? It seems odd that there’s still so much I don’t know about his life, like where he lives and how he spends his weekends.

I sigh and roll over to lay flat on my back. It’s best that I don’t know those things. Simon — Mr. Mulroney — is in the past.

And that’s where he needs to stay.

Still, I can’t help but beat myself up for having gotten in such a mess with him in the first place. I close my eyes, and a hot, solitary tear slips out and rolls down my jaw, past the place where his lips pressed against my throat.

Forget about it. Forget about him.

And eventually, I partially do — though only because I’m falling asleep.





CHAPTER TWELVE


A knocking noise wakes me up. I grab my second pillow and jam it over my head in an effort to block the sound.

“Sydney,” comes Crystal’s voice. My door cracks open. “When do you need to leave to get Brendan?”

“Ugh.”

“It’s seven.”

I groan. “His flight’s not till nine.”

“Nine? Sydney, you have to go.”

I yawn into the nice, cool sheets. “It’s LAX.”

“Yeah, and he’s in Venice Beach, and you’re in Hollywood.” She yanks the sheet off me, and suddenly I get what she’s saying. I’m late. Damn, I’m late.

“Shit,” I gasp, scrambling out of bed.

“Does he have bags to check?”

“Probably.” I rub my eyes as I hurry out of the room and down the hall. She follows behind me.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I just need to get my stuff.” I bump into the corner of the wall. “Shoes. Bag.”

I grab the two listed things. My mind is still foggy and it’s hard to think straight. I sit down on the couch for a second. “What else?”

“Phone,” Crystal says. “Keys. Socks.” She throws a pair of the last essential at me.

“Thanks.” I quickly pull the socks on.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

I look down. Flannel pajama pants and a black tank top.

“Can you see my boobs through this?”

Crystal peers at my chest. “Not really. I mean, just the slight outline of your nipples.”

I yank on my Converses. “Then nope. No time.”

Snatching my keys, I fly for the door.

“Text me when you get there!” she calls after me. “So I know you didn’t crash and die!”

“Okay!” I yell over my shoulder, yanking the door shut.

I make it to Venice Beach in half the time. Really, I’m damn impressed with myself. I call Brendan on the way, but he doesn’t answer.

“Shit,” I curse, turning onto his cousin’s street.

He’s outside standing by his suitcases. I stop in the street and he hurries over, rolling the bags behind him. I reach over and throw the door open, trying to buy us a couple pathetic seconds. He puts the bags in the back seat and then comes to climb in the front.

“Sorry,” I say as he closes his door and buckles up. “I’m sorry. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

“I think we have time.”

I grimace and hit the gas. “Feel free to kick me if you miss your flight.”

Brendan chuckles. “I’m glad you’re taking me. Hey…what are you wearing?”

“Ugh. What I woke up in.”

He laughs even harder.

I nervously change lanes, trying to get in the best flow possible. Traffic is surprisingly light, and it looks like Brendan might have a fighting chance after all.

“I can’t wait to get home,” he sighs.

I glance at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

My heart lurches, and for a second it feels like breaking up all over again — like I’m losing him forever. Except we never really had a chance at a second go. That was all just hopeful thinking, just like everything in my life this past month.